Weird Nightmare brings it home

You may know Edkins as the bandleader of METZ, a fearless and uncompromising hardcore trio that released five records on Sub Pop between 2012 and 2024. Edkins moved to Toronto with his now wife when the band started taking off 20 years ago. His new Weird Nightmare record, Hoopla, is peppered with bittersweet details about this upheaval, and the general transience of life. It’s also a bigger, bolder sounding record than its predecessor, which came out in 2022 and was written and recorded within the constraints of the pandemic. 

“The pandemic was certainly the catalyst for this project, to remain creative and to let my mind wander and to be productive,” Edkins tells me ahead of Hoopla’s release. “What I’ve come to learn about myself is that if I’m not making something – if I’m not in that process – then I’m a little lost. This record is completely different: it’s a full-band studio record, I wanted to make it as good as possible, fidelity-wise, with people I like and really admire.”

Recorded with Jim Eno from Spoon and Seth Manchester at Seth’s Machines with Magnets studio in Providence, Rhode Island, Edkins expands the sonic dimensions of the comparatively embryonic debut.  It’s a sound and an approach born out of trust and familiarity. 

“Seth did both of the last METZ records, a trusted friend whose instincts and processes I trust,” Edkins explains. “He’s very much an analogue guy and that’s what I was looking for in this record. Jim was moving back to Providence and opening his own studio, and through Seth I just sent him a message and he was happy to be involved. It was totally dreamy for me.”

There’s a dreaminess reflected in the sound of the record, in fact: breezy, melodic college-rock that speaks to Edkins’ formative influences. There are shades of British glam rock in “Never In Style”, and the primal, melodic impressions of The Replacements and Elvis Costello & The Attractions pepper the nooks and crannies of the record overall. Above all, it sounds fun.

“I only had really crummy demos, which they brought the best out of – it was a fun time and I kind of think you can hear it,” Edkins says. “The content isn’t lighthearted,” he clarifies, “but the vibe is really lighthearted and to-the-point. The people I was working with were so great and it was so easy – there wasn’t much banging heads against the wall. Everyone’s ideas were valid and we kind of just went with it.”

Edkins expresses a clear shift in process compared to METZ, acknowledging that formative influences play a much bigger part in the sound of Weird Nightmare. In our conversation, he pinpoints this spark to a Paul McCartney concert he attended with his brothers. “That’s what made me fall in love with music,” he sighs. “I was a mess! I couldn’t really imagine my life without his influences – that sort of music with its melodic sensibility is some of the earliest music I encountered and it is what brings me the most joy. That isn’t to say that punk and hardcore weren’t formative because they were.”

But he’s all about the hook: “I love having that endorphin rush of a chorus, of a hook, when a song can crush you with that chord progression or a change – that’s what I’m really into at the moment. There was the instinct just to let my instincts run wild and my influences take over. It’s a joy to write naturally and sit there and strum. With METZ it was using my language of dissonant chords, and I’m really proud of those records, but this is what I need to be doing now. It comes so naturally. I just love the record so much and I’ve got a band I’m really proud of.”

This impulse to regress may emerge from what Edkins reflects upon as a reasonably chaotic period in his life – the organic disintegration of METZ, and he and his wife weighing up the pros and cons of staying in a city they had made a life in together. From the centre of such a whirlwind Edkins took comfort in music that offered something foundational, though lyrically the record speaks to this state of flux very articulately, with images of interpersonal relationships collapsing and a life in a constant state of motion. Despite that, Edkins admits that he doesn’t see any singular thread running through Hoopla.

“It’s kind of song-to-song, although I think I was going through a lot of feelings and changes and questions,” he elaborates. “This record was finished before the last METZ tour was finished, so it wasn’t a reaction to that, but I think the two things are linked – looking back on life. At this point I felt really comfortable just being open and honest, which is a really important thing – when you’re open in your writing.”

This is immediately apparent in Edkins’ songs. “Might See You There” is a poetic ode to stoic resignation, a calm acknowledgement of the control we collectively lack, as it rushes past you like a train and clocks in at just over two minutes. 

“Forever Elsewhere” cuts a similar tone, embedded with a sense of longing for safety and consistency. Fatherhood has naturally influenced Edkins’ outlook, and his general approach to his artistic practice. “I’ve spent so much time on the road so I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to get out there,” he says of touring. “You want to do it all. You want to be good parents and do the thing you love to promote your music. I try to fight it off a little bit, but it just hits me that this is what I do. It’s a gift that people care enough to listen!”

Inevitably, much like the tone of the record itself, Edkins treats his creative practice with a calm, respectful diligence – and acknowledges its position as something beautiful and inevitable in his life, in spite of the torrent of change that has coloured and influenced his world recently. “I’m always at my happiest when I’m building something,” he says, “when I’m working on something. I can’t really do without it. Things will come and go in life, but this is a real constant for me.”